Through Fire
by PurpleYin
Summary: after GK3, where is she, what's happened... gabriel starts his journey to find out
1. Chapter 1 : The flames burn cold

1 Through Fire by purpleyin  
  
Feedback at hansaplatz@hotmail.com  
  
1.1 Chapter 1  
  
1.2 Day 1  
  
1.2.1 And the fire burnt, hotter than black and with new life  
  
Chilling all and with old ways it broke them down  
  
Into bricks and mortar, a castle in ruins  
  
With only love left to fight for it  
  
01:20am Delhi, India  
  
Somewhere over the ….hills a figure lay in a plain bed with a mosquito net swathing around the edges. The body tossing and turning violently in a disturbing deep sleep. Inside fire was alight with burning heat and torture for eternity, firmly gripping her mind, talons curling into the flesh white and strong, it became Numari.  
  
10:55am Schloss Ritter, Germany  
  
Travelling hundreds of miles over mountains, forests and plains, east to the fair land of Germania. The air rushed by quick and fast as if nothing could stop it, it had a quest. Perhaps to get there, where ever its there was. However it would not slow and splitting off over a large expanse of green, a large grey/brown building could be seen which on closer inspection was a great castle. Now in ruins in parts but still better than it had been. Today as with a reasonable amount of time, there were no signs of work being done on it but instead an eerie silence except for the air passing it forever on the quest.  
  
Cold stone met the skin as Gabriel's body, slumped too far over one side of the bed, hit the floor. A blunt realization of where he was and what had happened was needed but so far Gabe's mind only presented him with 'stone' and 'sleep' leaving the gradual awakening to bring with it the tide the answers sat upon.  
  
"Ugh" /oh god, what a night/  
  
Actually he couldn't remember what he dreamt which in itself was strange. He propped him self up and glanced at his alarm clock, the one that hadn't managed to wake him, it was 11 o'clock. By now Gerde would be shopping and he'd have to go down and make his own breakfast. Gracious as she was, she was also too polite to wake him up, not knowing that most of the time that was what he'd have preferred. When he reached the last step on the stairs the telephone rang. A shrill screech penetrating his fragile ears. Gabe wiped his face with his hand simultaneously brushing his hair off his face and trudged back upstairs to the library.  
  
Picking up the phone he was greeted by a friendly foreign accent.  
  
"Hello, I need to find 'Gabriel""  
  
Confused by her voice, he didn't know what to think but replied anyway  
  
"Yeah that's me. What can I do for you?"  
  
"I am Doctor Tumber from Delhi Regent Hospital, I am ringing about a Miss Grace Nakimura."  
  
Gabriel's face drained physically and he dragged the phone around and sat in his chair, careful not to sink down too quickly but unaware that his body would have neither noticed or cared.  
  
This was the call he'd been dreading. It wasn't that he didn't think she couldn't look after herself but just that he didn't think her going alone was very wise, she could have gone with a friend and also… a longer note or better letter explaining things a bit more clearly than the one he'd seen attached to Sidney's screen. Hell, Grace was the one who was fancy with words and she hadn't been able to give him a straight reason even with her presence absence, much like it had been for months, a bitter tone iced on his last thought.  
  
The feminine Indian voice continued warily, noticing the silence on the other line.  
  
"Your telephone number was more or less the only thing in her possession other than her passport and a locked diary. We have not been able to contact her next of kin, if you do know their whereabouts please tell me."  
  
Gabriel swallowed hard staring blankly at the grained desk and the rough copies of 'The Second Son'. Swallowing harder this time, he latently asked  
  
"What's wrong with her"  
  
"Your friend is very ill… although we ..don't ..quite know ..what is wrong but she is critical"  
  
His face flinched involuntarily at this, it sounded almost ominous. Critical, a word Gabriel had been unfamiliar with most of his life. Thinking about it frightened him, critical as in so important you couldn't believe. Did it mean she was life or death. Funny to describe it as life or death because the word really implied more that death was nearer and life was the 'critical' change hoped for.  
  
"Where exactly is the hospital?" he asked sounding more like usual as he picked up a small pad and pencil lying near by.  
  
"Righhhht…Uhuh"  
  
12:30am Schloss Ritter, Germany  
  
Gerde hurried in from the cold wind carrying several shopping bags full of groceries.  
  
As usual Gabriel was nowhere in sight. Mind you, he has been rather subdued lately reflected Gerde. As she approached the fridge she picked up the note attached. She could read English ofcourse but it took her awhile to realise what it said.  
  
"GERDE, gone to India, grace is ill, sorry but I had to go,  
  
couldn't wait. Will ring later, staying at Hillmoore hotel in Delhi.  
  
Gabe XX  
  
Gerde sat down on one of the kitchen chairs and thought about this. It was great he'd found Grace but at the back of her mind she'd always thought about what if Grace doesn't want to be found yet. She just hoped Grace would be ok, if she wasn't god could only tell what would happen to Gabriel. After all he'd been scrambling at clues and contacts for the past few months and only to find even the smallest trace of her. Luckily no cases had come up during this time, she was quite sure that he needed all his strength if one did and strong was not really how she would have described his present state of mind. It was almost as if Grace was the case, vital and not to be lost. Her mind boggled at the reason for Gabriel's 4-month quest for her, granted it wasn't all he'd been thinking about because she'd noticed a few copies of the first chapters of his new book but she was sure the thought was never out of his mind. He hadn't touched alcohol in months, he'd stopped drinking any at all since roundabout the end of his last case… when Grace disappeared. She recalled that Grace had commented on it once saying "that it was best left for special occasions if there was any need for it at all". Perhaps he wanted his head to be clear just in case he found what he was looking for.  
  
The thought crossed her mind that maybe Grace was the one. Gabe had always taken her for granted but since she was gone she was the first thing he'd say was missing.  
  
Helping Gabriel with research wasn't all she had been told to do by Wolfgang, as a Schattenjaeger's guide she had been taught to look out for Gabriel and to help fulfil the destiny of the Schattenjaeger's. The line could not die out. She herself would have had a child by Wolfgang if it had been possible, not just because of her love for him but because she knew what Schattenjaeger meant to him. He had once told her that "every Schattenjaeger has a one, indeed that every person has a one but that to a Schattenjaeger it is vital, they are needed to carry the family through history and are as important as the Ritter's themselves."  
  
Putting her head in her hands she remembered when Grace first met her and how she'd jumped to conclusions about her and Gabe, when she found out the truth she'd apologised sincerely though and Grace although defensive and mostly logical and controlled, hadn't been able to keep her feelings sealed tight.  
  
Gabe didn't know ofcourse but then if you looked close Grace didn't either. The only other time she'd got emotional was in the months Gabe was fighting the werewolf in him and Gabe did not remember much of that time.  
  
/oh what shall I do/ Gerde thought as she sat hunched at the table /I can help neither of them, and they can not help even themselves/  
  
15:00pm over Austria, Verkunden Airlines Flight 259  
  
Wringing his hands together impatiently he sat uneasy in his seat. The air pressure higher than normal made him even more uptight and volatile. Looking as though he would explode he called over a flight attendant impolitely  
  
"HEy, air hostess"  
  
The petite hostess walked over serenely, standing by his seat she answered him joyfully in a way that only staff know, when the customer is wrong but cannot be corrected. "I am Julie, one of your flight attendants on this flight. How may I assist you mein Herr" the end of the sentence was less of a question and more of a statement, implying that you did want help and that she had not been called over pointlessly.  
  
Looking slightly sheepish about his rudeness he politely asked for a drink  
  
"What would you like? We have a fine selection of alcoholic beverages" the stewardess stood smiling sweetly obviously hoping that he did not decide on the later, judging from his previous behaviour.  
  
Much to the delight of her he asked for spring water. It was not that he was going all health freakish but he simply didn't trust any other kind of water and didn't feel in the mood for soda.  
  
Touching the silvery edge of the screen in front of him, it curving round the dark grey panel inside with a sheen reflected in the window from where the light caught it. The sky was darkening, it was about 5pm now but with the changing time zones he wasn't so sure. By the time he'd get there it'd be night and visiting hours would be over. But there was no way he was gonna leave Grace alone tonight, no matter what. Looking out onto night it was perhaps not need that could not be left alone but pride instead.  
  
1.3 Chapter 2  
  
Day 1  
  
1.3.1 It was not what they knew but how they didn't use it  
  
1.3.2 The question there so lay unasked  
  
1.3.3 Leaving only pride to ask muted ears and deafened mouths  
  
And tales to grow deeper, sinking further into darkness  
  
12:05pm Schloss Ritter, Germany  
  
Gerde paced in the hallway, gently even though there was no one to hear her quick footsteps on the carpeted stone. The mind like anything else is usually best busy and with the absence of any tasks to be completed Gerde's mind was working overtime. Along with the absence of any message from Gabriel this had severe ramifications on her mental health. Her mind worked as anyone's does but between Gabriel and Grace, hers worked more as the latter's. This meant instead of calmly occupying herself with anything useful, it preferred to think of all possible outcomes with an emphasis on negative aspects. Unlike Grace however, there was no composed exterior to meet this unfounded condition but the blunt truth that wracked and writhed her every thought.  
  
Amongst the hurried thoughts of hers, her brain faintly remembered the active world and what exactly the ringing vibrations meant. There was a hollow knock on the door followed by merry exclamations of eagerness. Gerde walked dubiously to the door and cautiously opened it as a crack. The crack widened considerably when met by the ample force of Mrs Smith.  
  
"Oh my dear Gerde, how are you? I was just in the area and thought I must pop in."  
  
Gerde was met by the imposing yet entirely sincere smile of Beryl (?) and smiled back courteously and opened the door fully, allowing her to enter the castle although she was already more than halfway in.  
  
"Actually dear, I have a message for Gabriel. Although I am staying in Munich this time." Continuing she peered around as if this helped find the entity of significance "Where is he?"  
  
Looking confused to as who she was enquiring about she replied " Who, Gabriel?"  
  
"Yes my dear." By this time she was most definitely feeling a wave of satisfaction at the eventual comprehension.  
  
To say that Gerde and Mrs Smith were different was a dangerous understatement. Gerde knew English but it had taken enough time to adapt to Gabriel slang, his easygoing southern lilt and Mrs Smiths joyous fluid accent as well as her way of thinking were unanimously under appreciated by the part of Gerde's brain that was trying to make sense of it all.  
  
"Its very important I speak to him"  
  
Gerde responded evenly that he was not there and had gone to Grace in India, as she was ill.  
  
Mrs Smith's eyes widened at this revelation and she exclaimed "oh my giddy goat" much in a manner that you'd expect from her, regarding that she was a demonologist, also with a praise slightly unorthodox even to a live wire type personality.  
  
"Oh no. This is not good." Her gaze showing her fear and disappointment "They'd walk through fire to get to each other" the hushed comment pulling her stare to the side and the note Gerde had left by the phone.  
  
Gerde smiled briefly before she explained "I think you are exaggerating slightly"  
  
Shaking her head firmly as she spoke "No my dear, that is what they will do"  
  
Upon Gerde's face was a look of someone who was trying to calculate a complicated mathematical equation- in their head.  
  
"Tell me then what Gabriel, my angel; has been doing then  
  
The enemy you know can be more dangerous sometimes than a friend you don't  
  
1.4 Day 2  
  
1.4.1 Pictures torn to despair  
  
Showing the truth to the blind, who only wish to see  
  
1.4.2 And more to the painter who did not wish to draw so deep  
  
His own life onto the paper leaving others so undecided  
  
1:30am Delhi, India  
  
His arrival in India had been met with a black but bustling city and not the one he needed to be in. It had been a 5-hour drive to Delhi and that was after he'd found an actual cab willing to take him there. It was also a rather costly journey. And despite the fact that the scenery was most likely very captivating, it remained to be seen in the midnight atmosphere. After only an hour or two the cab had become stifling despite the windows being open. Perhaps it was only his nerves and unfamiliarity with the country that had caused this distress but this too was alien to him. Bar the hours when he woke up in a cold sweat, heart pounding over the latest Ritter inheritance to storm his sleeping consciousness.  
  
He slid out of the door of the grimy yellow cab. He had no idea where it had been gotten from. It certainly didn't fit his picture of India but he wasn't exactly complaining about it. Well not really.  
  
Walking into what seemed to be the main entrance it dawned on him that he could neither read nor speak the native language and it wasn't good to rely on English being well known. The reception was bustling but not in the traditional sense of the word, different somehow from what he'd seen of American hospitals. Fortunately the receptionists (if they were necessarily that) were preoccupied by a crowd of distraught people, all vying for attention and recognition. For help.  
  
Walking down the long corridor, which held a remarkable resemblance to every other hospital corridor in the world, he paid attention to the people moving around him.  
  
Grace was critical. But not on life support. He passed by a room; it had about 20 nurses and doctors dealing with about 8 or 9 patients. A few howls of agony could be heard. He concluded it must an emergency room. He carried on walking but with the vast number of possible rooms a hospital has, he wasn't getting anywhere fast. A young female doctor strode past at a steady pace. It took little more than seconds to realise the name badge said 'Tumber' on it. Maybe not the Dr. Tumber he wanted but it was worth a shot. Turning round he ran to catch her up.  
  
"Um.. Dr Tumber."  
  
"Yes." She said altering her direction to face him side on.  
  
"Hi. I'm Gabriel Knight. I spoke to you on the phone about Ms. Nakimura"  
  
"Oh yes. I remember. Her condition has not changed. Visiting hours are also over."  
  
"Ok. Could you tell me how to get to her room coz I cant read the signs."  
  
" May I see some id? Simply to prove you are who you say."  
  
Gabe struggled to find his wallet in his backpack, infact it was the only bag he'd brought with him and he'd hidden hid wallet deep down just to make sure it was out of reach to any strangers. Finally he produced a black leather wallet, worn with many creases. The kind of worn that makes an item comfortable to them and look dull and old to others. He slipped out his U.S driving license. The doctor examined it briefly, glancing at his unmistakable hair and concluding that it was him, if only for the fact his hair would be hard to fake, if you'd want to that is.  
  
He listened to the instructions trying to memorise them but secretly hoping he wouldn't need to remember them for long.  
  
"Just one more thing doctor. Where are the toilets?" he grinned hoping for a short but concise answer. As he moved away carrying up the corridor he thought about how useful that phrase was. It was just what he needed and luckily the toilets looked in the same direction as Grace's room was, just right to fool the doctor into thinking he'd paid any attention to her advice about visiting hours.  
  
Stepping into the empty elevator he stood hands in front of him clasped waiting for his floor.  
  
He knew Grace was ill but nothing prepared him what he saw when he walked in her room. The room he'd arranged and had paid for. She lay silent and still under pale green hospital sheets, the sheets themselves reminding you where you were if anything else in the room failed to. Her hair was longer now, would have been about a few inches below her shoulders had she been standing up. Even in her ill health it still looked like a silky black waterfall, crashing over the mossy looking pillow her head rested on. It was also half pulled back in a ponytail. It looked pretty on her and was a style that reminded him of the Virgin Mary. A humorous comparison at any other time. He couldn't imagine Grace calmly accepting the news from the angel Gabriel about her bearing God's child, not without a few answers back, most probably sarcastic and cutting.  
  
Her face was pale, the kind of pale that looked bad enough on an average reflection And worse still on hers. Her mouth and eyes lay closed, the only sign of life the rise and fall of her chest and the flexing of her nostrils as she breathed slowly.  
  
A chair in the corner is dragged over to the right side of the bed, the man glancing for a second at the view out the window, of a few lights in the street below. The noise from outside barely audible with the window and door closed.  
  
He sits elbows supporting him and shifts his expression while thinking silently before speaking quietly but loud enough for her to hear him.  
  
"Grace, its me."  
  
"You gotta get better you know. "  
  
"I've been looking for you for months and now.." his sentence dropped of there.  
  
/feels like a damn telephone conversation. One with a dead end at the other side/  
  
A bit like when he'd practiced speaking to girls when he was younger, only Gran had never been home when that had happened or more accurately he'd never practised when she was there. Anyway he hadn't needed much practise anyhow. He didn't feel like having some more now.  
  
"Come on Gracie, wake up, please" his voice was the embodiment of pleading but in a way only he could pull off without it actually sounding like he was.  
  
"I've missed you. You're a great friend Gracie. Practically my best and I don't need to worry bout the schattenjaeger business with you. You already know." This was getting more and more like a speech and a frank one at that.  
  
He thought about the last comment for a while, it probably wasn't an appropriate choice for a conversation.  
  
Feeling he was getting nowhere at all, he decided for a more dynamic way of communication. Once he was around the other side of the bed he lowered his head until his lips touched hers and kissed her gently. Almost afraid of breaking her in some way.  
  
Nothing.  
  
No response, not that he'd expected any with her track record. But then there had been nothing. Her eyes hadn't opened and she hadn't tried to push him away, albeit weakly, as he'd have expected. She just lay there, no response, barely human, barely there or living.  
  
Several hours later Enita Tumber opened the door of room 302 to find a one Mr. Knight sleeping uncomfortably in a straight wooden hospital chair. The chairs were not altogether uncomfortable but had never been made for sleeping in, this was somewhat of a design flaw considering they were used in a hospital but then again they hadn't been designed for one specific customer.  
  
She closed the door with a loud enough click to wake him up. A few minutes later while she was recording her observations she heard a low groan and some strange noises coming from his corner. Looking up she saw him holding one hand on his head in exasperation, he also looked rough but so did all of the night visitors. She wasn't surprised that he'd taken no notice of what she'd said but then she wasn't a strict enforcer of that rule, merely of the medical and ethical rules. He wasn't doing any harm by being here; it no doubt made him feel at least a bit better.  
  
"Hello again" he shifted himself up in the chair to a sitting position.  
  
"Hello, Mr.Knight" she smiled at him. A smile always helped.  
  
He sat up straight and look serious all of a sudden.  
  
"what's wrong with her?" his eyes penetrated hers and for more than a moment she could see all his pain and worry. She felt bad because she didn't know. Not quite like when there was nothing they could do and the helplessness she felt then but almost as bad because she could neither ease his pain nor did she know the answer. As if the plain fact they didn't know was just as bad because if they knew something then maybe done about it. But until that was so all she could do was say that there was a possibility, bad enough because there may not be just as they could say there may be.  
  
"We have not been able to determine that yet. All brain activity is normal and the only injuries we could find were some cuts on the top of her right arm."  
  
She moved the sleeve up and he caught a glance of some deep cuts there. He couldn't tell what had made them but then he hadn't gotten a good look and wasn't an expert on that anyway.  
  
"Your friend is in a coma but she is able to breathe by herself and all bodily functions appear to be working normally. She is ..sleeping.. in a way."  
  
By now he had his hands clasped like when praying in the front of his face, each eye looking over each side of them. He brought his eyes up to the doctor to see her response to his next question.  
  
"So, she's not suffering?"  
  
"No" she shook her head gently at this and smiled lightly at him.  
  
Seeing no signs of a lie on her features he once again stared at the figure on the bed.  
  
"Mr. Knight, do you know how to contact any of her friends or family?" the tone of her voice hinted at its importance.  
  
"Sorry, no. I knew a few of her friends but not how to find them. I'm real sorry bout that"  
  
"it is ok, but if you do find out then please tell me. Her possessions are by her bed, you may look after them if you like."  
  
"ok"  
  
as the doctor exited the room he saw a previously undiscovered backpack over in the corner by her bed. He was actually surprised he hadn't seen it before. Picking them up he says goodbye and gets a cab to his hotel.  
  
His room was plain, no telly but a phone and a bed and a table. A bathroom too, even though small. The bathroom immediately catches his attention and he turns on the taps, splashing his face with the cold water. He dries his face off with a rough towel and picks up the phone.  
  
In gemany the phone rings in the castle. Rings and rings but no one picks up and it goes to answer phone.  
  
"Gerde, its me. Called to say I'm ok and grace… is sorta ok. I'm staying until grace gets better.. whenever that is…hope you listen to the messages. I know you always do. Bi" 


	2. authors comment

HI  
  
i've started writing another chapter, hopefully soon they'll be another 10 pages or so added to the story. however i will only post the rest up if i get enough feedback to warrant it. so if you're reading this and like it and want more then please review it so i can tell that its worth it.  
bi  
  
purpleyin 


	3. Chapter 2: I am numb

Chapter 2  
  
  
  
Day 2  
  
12:08pm Delhi Swan Hotel  
  
He picked up the bag by the bed, feeling fortunate that it was a light rucksack. He'd only had a few hours groggy sleep of tossing and turning, maybe it was the beds, the unfamiliar surroundings, the foreigness of the country; something he'd never get used to or maybe it was the worry of a friend over a friend. He drew the laces open slowly, with a mild curiousity he pondered what more surprises were held by the satchel. His eyes clutched their closure tightly as he stopped what he was attempting, he couldn't do it, look through her belongings as if she were already dead. He couldn't allow even one more inch of doubt that she would survive weasel its way into his head, he worried that if he allowed himself to believe it for one moment then it could be made true, he could kill her with a thought, an idea. Stranger things had happened to him, far stranger, he couldn't be too cautious when it was her life he considered. He wiped his eyes, thinking of breakfast, he could get some on the run and hail a taxi to the hospital, share the morning with gracie just like they had before, before this all happened. Before he screwed up. Before she left.  
  
It was a painful reminder to think of why she lay on the bed. As far as the doctors were concerned she lay there because of an unidentified illness that had overtaken her body, an intruder had done this. What was far worse was the truth that beyond anyone's imagination, they would not know of the real reason. He had caused this, his actions from the moment he'd met her on sweltering new orleans day and given her what would be a forsaken job, all that and that job that led to the past from then, to today and her predicament. He knew that was what was. Nothing else. He wouldn't have gone so far to say he was her murderer but he as good as did that task. He'd played around with things he didn't understand, things he didn't know of. He'd not seen that the lines had become blurred, a misjudgement of their friendship. All of it could have been avoided, hindsight wasn't the annoying voice saying how you could have done better, this time it was the voice telling you that you ought to know better, a whole lot more better. The kind of better that halted the breakdown of a heart or two and a tragedy for one.  
  
The bag once again sat in the corner by her bed, across from his vigil seat, an angle that allowed him with the help of the loosened strings to see into the open hole. He'd sat there for half an hour staring at it, thinking of what was in his view. He looked at grace's face another time, she showed no sign of waking.  
  
/what could it hurt to peek/  
  
fumbling with the scrunched up folds of the bag he finally reveals its contents, a book, a journal of some kind, a wallet with various cards and travellers cheques and a few personal belongings of various assorts. The diary, gabe thoughtfully fondled its leather cover. It was a bit battered, looked like it'd taken the rain and the wind, as he opened it specks of desert dust and sand fell out of it, he noted their magical fall the floor. They seemed like they were floating on an invisible cascade, fluttering like butterflies as the light intertwined with the particles. On the page was grace's neat but flourishing scrawl, flicking through it sometimes it is rougher and sometimes smaller and rushed. As he got to near the end of skimming the pages he felt a thin push on his palm and as he moved the book into the grasp of his other hand a photo dropped from the books own grip. It was face down when he reached to pick it up, had no date on it but when he turned it over he knew exactly when it was from. It pictured him and grace smiling, gerde had taken it with the backdrop of the garden at schloss ritter the summer before. He remembered it well, he'd been busy with the renovations, there'd been german workmen everywhere and none of them took any notice of him despite the fact they most spoke english. He'd wished he'd gotten the local builders in, ones from Rittersberg who had respect atleast even if they lacked thoroughly modern training. But instead he'd gone with a big firm he'd been recommended by the family lawyer. And he'd had no end of grief trying to organise it all, whatever he said they did the opposite of, he was the one paying but they cared more about fooling around playing jokes on the dumb american. To top it off it had been a rough patch in his writings. He was stuck on novelisation of their last 'great' adventure and the light relief of a short story challenge wasn't helping one bit. Here was where the truly memorable bit was. Grace and Gerde cleared out the workmen, organised a break; A good meal, a trip around the local pubs and sites to see and then.they topped it all off with revealing that they'd found another company to do the work who had been fully instructed so to leave him free to relax enough to get the flow of creativity back. They'd celebrated the end of the workmen from hell at his request with a bottle of wine in the garden, and gerde in the merriment insisted on a photo of him looking so happy so she could prove he'd been happy atleast once before and could shove it in his face whenever he entered what she called one of his black moods. And ofcourse she'd also insisted on one other photo, him and grace to prove that they were friends after any of the frequent quabbling started It was funny, one of the happiest moments of his life and he had a record of it. It came in handy when you were at your all time low, atleast it couldn't get much worse than now. If he took a picture of now maybe one day he'd look back and see how his worry was for nothing, that it had all worked out fine. Sure would be nice if he could be there now.  
  
He looked back to her, not a bit like the grace he knew. No hint of silent strength lingered. Only the pale grasp that seemed to hover over her, like the infamous shoulder of death. Was it really his friend there? Friends. They'd been that once. Maybe she wasn't his friends anymore. But he hadn't any suitable word for her now. But sure, they'd been friends. He'd even met some of hers once too. An informal meeting grace had arranged when they'd been in the u.s., on a promotional tour. It would have been good, except they were all bubbling over thinfs he'd never heard of. Chatting away about old times that he had been there for. The night had only highlighted how out of place he was in her life. How out of touch he was with her world. A whole 7 years far away, in his little self-encompassing room writing books that weren't even fiction. He couldn't even write an entertaining lie. He certainly couldn't entertain her friends. They weren't his or even in his realm. All he really knew was grace, gran, gerde and mosely. They had to be the most mismatched friends there'd been. Funny, he should have been able to see they couldn't be more. No use if they couldn't just be friends atleast. Why was he so happy then? Everything he knew now was as real then. Was just a good reason for melancholy as it was in the present. He looked at the picture and damned it. Where was the use of happiness, when it was stuck in the past and stuck there forever. A torturing memory of what you want today. What was just as far away.  
  
And further away, there shone a silver eagle in the sky. It glinted with the sunlight that shone straight through the porthole onto her lap. Yawning the passenger opens her eyes and stretches out. The call rings out from the intercom, the captain happily tells them all to strap into their seatbelts. She prepares for landing, and glances out for one little last look at India.  
  
  
  
Day 3  
  
  
  
Clawless dragons with their fire still, using all they have to fend off the sheen  
  
With only bitter kisses never spent as a memory And nothing left to remind all of what passed  
  
But only of what will  
  
  
  
The scene was black, no background to it. He stared at the desk, the wood grain pitted with marks made by the old observers. He hears the slap of a ruler and meekly looks up to the teacher. The mistress towers over him, dressed formally as a victorian governess. Her face shows a strict calmness but a merciful hint to its figure. As she prepares to speak, he holds his breath in anticipation of punishment. Instead she commands him to read the book before him, a book that appeared, he'd known it wasn't there but yet it is there. A mystery that scares him, for he's so scared he stutters. "I asked you to read the page aloud Gabriel." He stares at it trying to make sense "Read, master gabriel" a thin trickle of sweat rolls down the side of his nose and he concentrates harder. The words seem umbled, he can't see then, can't make out what it says. " I said READ. You must read" his heart beats faster and faster, feeling dizzy. He wants to make her stop, make it go away, why does it confound him. They're only words. The have meaning, as plain as an apple must be an apple and you know it is. "Hear me. YOU MUST READ" the fear gushes through him, his pulse out of control. The darkness begins to engulf with the faint traces of her control Her faces is all he can see. Her hands holding up his head. "your fear controls you. You cannot hate yourself so. You must hate this" her hand points at him, she carries on and he can't take it. He loses himself in the place, the darkness pulls up and closes. With the last feeling of his arms around a small book that he knows the way of. 


	4. Important authors Note

A/N: i am going to continue with this fic, have unfortunately been preoccupied. also not too sure where the next chapter is going to go. but it will be up by easter atleast.  
also if you review and leave your email, i will email you myself when i post each new chapter up, just ask. so please please review. i need to get some ideas, from what you like about it and where its going.  
  
purpleyin 


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